


I Want to Come Home for Christmas

by interestedbystander



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interestedbystander/pseuds/interestedbystander
Summary: Three words ruined everything when all they were supposed to do was make it better. Can Bucky find a way to let go and realise what he truly needs was right there all along before he loses everything?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 38
Kudos: 182





	1. Chapter 1

Every part of your body quaked from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. You couldn’t withhold the noises that seemed to be coming from the inner most primal part of you. The weight on your body greedily welcomed and desperately needed as your orgasm continued rolling only to matched in pounding ferocity of the man above you, his dreamlike features drenched in a fine sheen of sweat as his body pummelled into you.

_Hard and fast, hard and fast_ was the mantra of what you both needed.

Bucky had returned from a mission you’d heard hadn’t gone the teams way, civilians lost, a village destroyed. It sounded like a complete mess. Though he wasn’t willing to provide you any details when he walked in and stalked to your bed, swiftly lay you back on the cool, waiting sheets and kissed you with every ounce of fire he could muster. He wanted you and you were eagerly awaiting him. His touch, taste and smell a craving that would make anyone blush at your desperation. You had lost count how many long days he’d been gone but now only too pleased for him to be home. There would be time to download afterwards.

You were both exactly where you needed to be.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Bucky muttered against your skin, his teeth digging into your flesh like a burn preparing its scar. His hips rolled deeply into yours as his back caved into you and he hissed as he came, his thrusts petering out haphazidly and slowing. He collapsed on top of you, utterly spent and body cooling. “Fuck,” he said, licking a bead of sweat from the ridge of your clavicle. “Hi,” he said, finally.

“Welcome home,” you managed, brushing some tangled, matted dark hair from his dark eyes, still overtaken by lust.

“I’ll say. God, I needed that,” he kissed your lips and rested his cheek on your breast. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” you replied, folding your arms around him and he burrowed in to your flesh further. Even if he had, you’d enjoy the pain tomorrow as you hid the pain of the pleasure in plain sight behind your desk at work.

“Good, I’m glad,” he gave you a weary smile that didn’t entirely meet his battle-weary eyes, body sagging as he started to drift into slumber. He muffled a yawn. “’m sorry.”

“Go to sleep,” you hushed in a whisper. “Sounds like you need it.”

“I missed you,” he murmured without much context.

You grinned to yourself. “Stop speaking.”

“Goodnight,” he got the last word as you traced shapes over the scorching flesh of his bare shoulder, his breathing levelling out and a the gentle sound of his light snore took over the silence in the room. Calmed and sleeping soundly, you were growing tired yourself.

“I love you,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed to join him in slumber.

Bucky always slept with what felt like one eye and ear open.

Now, his stony blues eyes wide and body tense, he froze. What did you say? _Fuck, don’t say it_ , he begged. _You’re not supposed to say it_ , he swallowed roughly, attempting to control his now jagged breathing. _That’s not what this is about!_

And as desperately as he wanted to say those precious words back to you, it was just a damn near easier if he crept from the bed and went back to his room to pretend like it simply never happened.

“I’m sorry… I just can’t,” he barely whispered as he silently dressed, gently kissed your forehead and made his way from the room as your eyes opened for a single tear to drip down your cheek and onto the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of your phone pinging to let you know yet _another_ new text message arrived was just adding insult to injury. Since what you could only describe as the worst single moment of your life, while he’d left you and you assumed he thought you didn’t hear him, Bucky’s texts were _relentless_. Wanting to know where you were, what you were doing, how you were. That he was going on a mission, could he see you before he left?

Though no, you hadn’t responded to a single one and it was tearing you apart. Saying that, you hadn’t felt more stronger-willed in your life, proud you could ignore a bunch of texts from the man you were in love with. _Real strength_. 

But he knew you were in love with him. And thus lay the issue that he simply didn’t feel the same, you recalled as the searing pain in your heart resumed and you clutched your chest.

You gave in, retrieved your phone and stared at the text, attempting what seemed to be the hardest to thing to do to this point… _blocking his number_ and again, failing. You tossed your phone back into your drawer and slammed it closed it, frightening you a little. “Fuck,” you mouthed silently.

A moment later, Pepper peered from her office, a perplexed grin on her face. “Everything good out here?” she asked, her red bangs bouncing perfectly.

“Everything’s great,” you forced a grin, lying through your teeth. “Just getting you ready for your departure to LA tonight. Weather hopefully won’t be an issue,” you both looked gravely out the full length windows at the dark sky outside and its dreary clouds fogging up the glass. Record snow had dumped the night prior and more was due. You fucking hated snow. It didn’t represent your holidays in the slightest but it matched your stormy mood flawlessly. “Happy will drive you to Mr Stark’s airstrip in the next hour or so.”

Ignoring you, Pepper’s lips formed a thin line. “Just heard a crash. That was all.”

“No crashes,” you lied shamelessly with a shrug.

“There was definitely a crash,” Pepper maintained. You smiled at your boss and her attempt to procrastinate away her stress. Tony had asked (forced) Pepper to take some time off to go to the newly rebuilt Malibu compound for the holidays and workaholic Pepper was finding it difficult to consider downtime even though her phone, tablet and laptop were constantly synced and within arms’ length at all times.

“Was just my desk drawer, Pepp,” you gave in as Pepper gave a single nod. “Got a little too excited putting a pen away. Apologies.” See? Shameless.

“Oh,” she stood to her full height and leaned against the doorframe, crossing a slim, patent-heeled black Louboutin over the other. “Something you wanna talk about?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied.

“You sure?” Pepper persisted.

“Thousand percent,” you answered, realising how short you sounded. To your employer, of all people, Pepper had always been so good to you. You exhaled, embarrassed for your behaviour. “I’m sorry. Again. I’ve just had a few rough days in the lead up to the break.”

Without missing a beat, she replied, “Heard through the grapevine you haven’t been spending time with Sergeant Barnes much anymore.”

Shit, you thought. She knew. “Well, of course not – the team is away.” A lucky coincidence.

“Perhaps.”

You gave in, knowing the Tower’s internal AI, FRIDAY, provided Pepper with its daily analytics of comings and going throughout the Tower. Snitched out by a computer – _fuck you, FRIDAY!_ “We’re not seeing each other,” you admitted, lowering your eyes to pick at that break in your nail that you had been catching on everything and bothered you all day. “…anymore. At least I don’t think we are,” you added meekly.

“I like Sergeant Barnes,” Pepper began.

Thankfully your desk phone started ringing and you gave Pepper an apologetic smile before pressing the receiver attached over your ear. “This is the office of Ms. Potts,” you answered thoughtfully as Pepper gave you a look that told you that you were well and truly saved by the bell (you didn’t disagree) before she disappeared back into her office quietly. 

You wondered if Pepper noted the airline home screen that was also open in front of you. With one ear to the caller and the other concentrating on the flight details, you hit the ‘book’ option and slumped back into your chair – this was not how you saw your holidays going but you couldn’t stay here if it meant spending your time to avoid Bucky every moment for your break. The thought just made you feel hollow.

You were heading home to the solace of loved ones and not to the delicious arms of Bucky Barnes.

_Fuck_.

* * *

It wasn’t like Pepper Potts to get involved in other people’s lives – hell, she was the assistant to Tony Stark in her previous work life, she knew the art of keeping her nose out of other people’s business and where to put the trash as required.

But why did it seem like such a silly idea to her that you and Sergeant Barnes were no longer seeing each other? And why did it sadden her so much?

You’d both made each other happier, Pepper noted a few months earlier. And she’d sworn she never seen a fonder grin on Bucky’s face since he returned Stateside when you recounted a story about your family overseas of when you were a child. The way he’d inched closer to you like it was only him you were talking to. The way you’d stolen a sip of his whiskey at his allowance – and, as Sam Wilson noted, if anyone else did that, they’d also lose an arm. Probably two!

Pepper retrieved her phone and did something she hadn’t done before – she found Barnes’ number in her phone contacts and simply typed, ‘Whatever you did to mess this up needs to be rectified as soon as you’re back from wherever the hell you are because a truly wonderful person may or may not have just booked a ticket home for the holidays. VPP’.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, Pepper texted to tell you that she was hauling ass for the holidays?” Steve asked as he danced on the balls of his feet to stay warm across the ring from Bucky, who called time to adjust the strapping around his right wrist with his sharp, white teeth to fasten a wayward knot. “Seems a little out of character to me.”

“Yah, tell me about it. Maybe’s she’s more like Stark than we think,” Bucky agreed with a shrug, raising his fists to alert his best friend their sparring had resumed by his count. “How did she even know we were foolin’ around?”

“Everyone knew, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged easily. “What can ya do?”

“ _What can you do_?” Steve repeated incredulously. “Well, when someone tells you they love you – ” Steve smarted as he ducked a jab to the bridge of his eyebrow from Bucky who may’ve thrown a little more ferocity into his hit as Steve’s jib continued.

“What experience do you have again?” Bucky sniped as Steve’s nose flared, ticked off at the low blow. “Like I said,” Bucky raised his voice in clarification. “I’m just going to pretend like I didn’t hear it and go on about everything as normal… if she ever decides to text me back.”

Steve paused to look at Bucky, his jaw gaping. How stupid was his friend? Honestly. “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky warned. “She was fuckin’ tired, she probably didn’t even realise she said what she said – ” he paused and straightened his stance as Steve stood across from him, a wide, shiteating grin forming on his fair face, hands sitting on his slender hips – Bucky made a mental note to give him shit about that later. “Jesus. What now, Steven?” Bucky rolled his eyes far back into his head.

“Oh, hell. Alert the authorities. You’re in love with her! You’re in love with the girl,” Steve reasoned like it was the simplest explanation on the planet.

Bucky lowered his gaze to square up Steve’s jaw, Steve blocked his best friend’s left-hand hit just in time to still send him across the ring and onto his ass in peals of laughter. “And fuckin’ stay down,” Bucky hissed, wiping the sweat from the tip of his nose. “You don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking about.”

“Sure I don’t,” Steve said, still laughing heartily. “I think she’s great. Smart, funny, attractive. You could’ve – _and have_ – done a lot worse, Buck,” he reached for his water bottle and took a slug before tossing it in Bucky’s direction, who caught it and took a drink himself.

“I don’t think this is the time to remind me of my exploits in the 40’s, Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve held his hands up. “I geddit – you’re doing that shutdown bullshit you do when you’re faced with an emotional situation. I geddit. I do,” Steve half-heartedly joked. He was always sympathetic of the decades of torment his best friend was put under but it wouldn’t stop him from telling Bucky that he was making a mistake and letting love get away because he was scared of a few little words that would obviously change him for the better… especially when he clearly felt exactly the same.

“I’m so glad I just planted you because I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Captain Asshole,” Bucky sniped.

“You’re a hard man, Buck.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ forget it.”

Sighing, Steve couldn’t resist adding, “Why don’t you just give yourself a break, Buck? And give in. You’re in love with her too.”

“She doesn’t need my chaos in her life, Stevie,” Bucky replied, bored of waiting for Steve to get back on his feet and shadowboxing, his feet shuffling without hesitation on his toes, his loose tank sticking to his sweaty chest and arms pumping to their own accord. Bucky didn’t know why he had to explain himself - if anyone could possibly understand his reservations, it had to be the one person on the planet that knew him best, didn’t it?

“Maybe she help ease it…” Steve reasoned. Bucky ignored Steve, but crossed the ring to help him to his feet. “I know you’re pretending it was just sex, Buck. But you two are inseparable. You don’t hide how much time you spend together.”

“You need to stop,” Bucky reminded Steve, pointing hard at his friend’s chest.

“You go on dates, even if you say you’re just ‘hangin’ out’. She sleeps in your room and aside from me, no one else is even allowed in there. When we’re all together, you laugh and smile at each other all night – and let’s be honest, you don’t do that greata job at hidin’ your jealousy if she’s talking to any other guy that ain’t you,” Steve teased. “Me included.”

“I’m done,” Bucky announced, making his way to the ropes, needing space. Watching Steve’s grin of sheer mirth that he got one over him, Bucky sighed and softened a little, sitting on the corner, head falling and dark hair hiding his eyes. “Look, I know how I feel, I’m not makin’ a huge secret of it. But now I do know how she feels? It terrifies me. I can’t believe my luck she could possibly feel the same. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. One that would be much safer if she wasn’t in love with the _fuckin’ Winter Soldier_.”

Steve paused a moment and reflected, there it was - the kicker. Thinking over the last few years, Bucky had dated, nothing serious. Kind of like his old friend from the 1940’s. Take a dame on a date, show her a good time. If she was so inclined, take her home. But with you, it was never like that. A sweet friendship that had eventually blossomed into more. You made him blush, you made Bucky laugh! It was incredible to watch – but why was Bucky harping on his past when he could have so much to look forward to in his future?

Steve watched his friend step through the ropes and land silently on the floor below them. Steve unlaced his wrist bands, discarding them to the corner of the ring as Bucky walked away, doing the same. “Yeah… or it could make everything better?” Steve offered.

Bucky paused and looked back at his friend, his hands on his hips, dejected. “You’re not hearin’ me, Steve.”

“Believe me, I am,” Steve said. “I’m just sayin’.”

“You gotta a lot to say, pal. Do you ever fuckin’ shut up?”

“You just learning I gotta an opinion?” Steve challenged back.

“Fuck no – that stupid trap of yours has been the bane of my existence for the last one hundred years,” Bucky replied, a little softer. “And probably the next hundred.”

“You gonna talk to her? You owe her that much.”

Sighing, Bucky gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her.”

“You got too much to lose, pal.”

“I just don’t think she needs the baggage that comes along with a guy like me, Steve.”


	4. Chapter 4

Hearing a gentle knock at your door and Bucky’s soft voice following to ask if you were there, you froze on the spot. Dammit. He’d finally caught up with you. “I know you’re there, sweetheart. Least you could do is open the door to say goodbye.”

Oh, he was infuriating. How did he know you were leaving?! You debated for another few seconds to stay quiet – you were _thisclose_ to making a discreet exit that didn’t require bumping into Bucky Barnes. “It’s open,” you finally said, adjusting your rigid posture to semi-normal as the door opened slowly and revealed the man who you once dreamed about and now who seemed like your worst nightmare.

Argh, he look disturbingly handsome in his grey V-neck t-shirt and black jeans that were just a smudge too tight over his powerful thighs and charmingly bare feet.

Biting back a smile and pushing his flesh hand through his loose, dark locks as he took in the mess of your room, Bucky asked, “You’re all packed?”

How come you could organise everyone else, including one of the biggest CEO’s on the planet, yet taking care of yourself was a complete fallacy? You hovered precariously over the suitcase on the floor, trying in vain to somehow fasten it closed and gave him a false half-smile – the worst time he could have turned up. “Hey.”

He stood barefoot, his face quirking an amused smile with your predicament but not ready to offer his assistance just yet. You’d had him on the hop since… well, the morning since the ‘I love you’ bombshell and he figured since he’d cornered you, he wouldn’t make this easy on you. He needed to be in your space. He wanted to get in your face and profess every word he felt so deeply but he was just so much better playing it cool. But you hadn’t made it easy on him, had you? A big fat NOPE - avoiding him around the Tower, not replying to calls or texts. He skipped his return salutation. “Heard around the grapevine you’re leavin’ on a jetplane and goin’ half way around the world for the holidays.”

_Shit_. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen my family in a while. And I may as well see them instead staying cooped up, watching shitty Christmas films and eating Chinese food by myself,” you lied brilliantly like just you’d convinced yourself of it. “I mean, the team will probably be called away anyway.” 

“And if we’re not called away?” Bucky asked thoughtfully.

“ _Please_ ,” you scoffed. “Terrorists and aliens only attack during the holidays or Fourth of July,” you muttered, trying to regain your balance and not to be launched from the miserable lid of your suitcase.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you theory. “I’ll give you that one… can I help?” he offered. Reluctantly, you nodded. Bucky held out his scorching right hand to you and helped you climb off the luggage as gracefully as possible to make room for him as the lid shot open after you moved. With little effort on his behalf, the suitcase zipped closed without breaking. “There ya go.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” you said meekly.

He took a seat on your bed, somewhere you’d spent countless hours together, picking up your passport and travel details (to commit to memory), marvelling at the unflattering passport photo and still thinking how beautiful you looked anyway. “You know, it’s still not too late to cancel everything and just stay here with Stevie and I,” he muttered, not looking up to meet your gaze. You rolled your eyes and reached around him to turn off the strand of Christmas lights that hung over your bedhead – you tried to ignore the blistered timber from the imprint of Bucky’s cybernetic hand from a few weeks back, daring yourself not to recall the rough sex that caused it. “Or even at the Tower. I know there’ll be parties and food and probably some really good champagne – ”

“My family know I’m coming, Buck. I’ve gotta organise an Uber before the weather gets worse and I miss my flight entirely,” you snapped, taking your phone from the charger and opening the app to book the nearest car as he raised his hands in defence. The fucking nerve of him, poorly attempting to get you to stay.

“Hey, hey. Okay,” he said softly. “I’m not here to start a fight.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“Last ditch effort to stop you from leavin’?” he tried solemnly. “Look, I know you’re angry at me. You have every reason to be – ”

“I’m not angry at you,” you cut him off, stance hard as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I know I did something really shitty.”

“Shitty? And what might that be?” you challenged. Say it. _Say it, Bucky_ , you dared. 

Sadly, Bucky sat back up and put his hands together, wringing the flesh and black and gold-linked vibranium, his nerves getting the best of him – he could rest his heart beat to avoid a lie detector machine like a seasoned pro but you made him feel about three feet small and it terrified him. “Baby – ”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” you muttered.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he muttered, not knowing what else to say. He was sweating bullets now, talking himself from a situation like this was wrecking his nerves.

“Sorry for what? For you pretending you didn’t hear me tell you that I loved you and then saying sorry and bolting?” When Bucky stayed silent, you continued, “I think I should apologise to you for being so fucking stupid to think you could have ever felt the same as I did.”

He stood up, holding his hands to you, hoping to get a word in. But you weren’t done yet. “Don’t be like that – ”

“Be like what? On the wrong side on unrequited love?” And like that, the biggest lie in the room was out. Bucky desperately needed to yank his feet from his mouth and to speak all the words that his brain and heart was screaming at him yet he remained pitifully mute. You looked back at your phone as it beeped, demanding attention. “My car is approaching. I gotta go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Stop apologising. You’ve done that already,” you told him. “Just…”

“Just what?” he asked, a little hopefully.

You sighed, touching his stubby cheek, his head falling into your soft palm. Jesus, it felt like such a kiss off – it was the end of things, you both knew this. Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, hoping if he closed his eyes, he would ear what else was coming. “Just have a nice Christmas, okay? Stay safe, Buck.”

Inhaling deeply, Bucky nodded as you dropped your hand. “Yeah… you too.”

* * *

An hour later after some atrocious weather and expected gridlock, you sighed dejectedly, seeing the your flight update pop up on the departures screen in the airline’s First lounge, just to add insult to injury. You weren’t surprised to see the vicious bold red letters ‘ **DELAYED’** flashing on the screen, but then again how much worse could your life get to this point? You were pleasantly surprised to arrive at the airport to find that Pepper had upgraded your flights to First all the way home. She truly was a special boss. You thanked her profusely via text though she hadn’t replied. She was in Malibu with Stark for the holidays and she deserved some time off. You just hoped she was able to unwind and enjoy. It wasn’t her forte. 

Your eyes had been glued to your phone in the hopes that Bucky may have texted some silly quip or ask you to stay again, to tell you that he hated you, anything. But nothing was forthcoming. It was what you deserved really. You knew you didn’t give Bucky a shot to explain – but fuck him, he didn’t give you a shot either. He could add professional heartbreaker to his resume. It was like you were punched in the chest by his powerful cybernetic arm.

Another couple of glasses of champagne downed and your flight was finally ready for boarding. You were just tiddly enough to hope that you’d pass out before take off. Collecting your boarding pass, passport and carry-on luggage, you meandered at your own pace to the boarding gate, waiting in the shortest line for prime boarding.

“Welcome on board, miss,” the boarding attendant told you as you were ushered through the aerobridge to First Class, where you were greeted again by a smiling flight attendant who guided you to your seat that was as big as your apartment in the Tower. Well, no. Not that big, but gee, you’d get used to this kind of travel quickly if Pepper ever wanted to gift you like this again. You were given a gentle run through of the seat and its features before you were left to your own devices and buckled up.

Settling in and your glass of champagne delivered, you were asked to turn your phone to flight mode prior to take off. You nodded, collecting your phone again and noticed you’d missed a few texts. One from Pepper telling you that you deserved more than First Class upgrades and to enjoy the flight and especially your break.

The other from Bucky simply saying, “Fly safe”.

It was like a kick in the teeth. Sculling the champagne, the flight attendant came to claim the glass and asked if you want another one. “If I’m awake,” your instruction began. “Just keep ‘em rolling.”


	5. Chapter 5

“So, she told you that she loved you and you, Barnes, realised that was the best time to keep your stupid fat mouth closed?” Sam’s face was momentarily stoic, maybe even a little perplexed, before he howled with laughter, clapping raucously. “You are seriously the dumbest motherfucker in the world – that woman has been begging for you to tell her how you feel and you have the audacity to be all brooding and upset that she hauls ass to another country to get away from you? You truly are the stupidest sonobitch goin’ ‘round.”

Quaint, Bucky thought. Like he didn’t know he was the world’s biggest fucking idiot. Even Steve, the one person Bucky truly needed the support from right now, stood at the bar, beer bottle nestled in his hands, a small fond look of recognition across his fair face was begging for Bucky to punch it. Gently, Steve tried, “Easy, Sam.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Thanks for nothin’, Steve.”

“No, Sam’s right, Cap,” Clint spoke up from the couch. “She’s a cool chick – you’ve messed this one up, Buck.”

“Are you in love with her, Sergeant Barnes?” FRIDAY piped up, those in the room looking at each a little concerned at the AI’s sudden intrusion in the conversation. “Mr Stark is watching this conversation from his Malibu compound and requested me to ask on his behalf.”

Suddenly it didn’t seem as Ultron-ish as it could have. But nonetheless creepy and stalker-ish on Stark’s behalf, Bucky decided.

“Yeah!” Scott piped up. “A grand gesture!”

“Meet her at the airport and stop her from boarding the plane!” Thor boomed, straightening to his full height in his excitement. “I saw that in a television show once. The man going after the lady was an awful human. His female offsider was fantastically hilarious though.”

“Oh, _Friends_ ,” Natasha smiled.

“Yes, Natasha,” Thor wrapped a budging bicep around her shoulders. “We are friends.”

“Can you get to the airport in time?” Sam asked, suddenly serious, Thor’s wayward explanation of a television show striking a chord as a grand gesture suddenly making a lot of sense.

“She took off outta JFK hours ago. She’ll be somewhere over the Pacific now,” Bucky replied, his attention on the tumbler in his palm, spinning it gently between his fingers.

“You guys, we have Quinjets!” Wanda exclaimed, standing up from her place on the couch, wide eyed in youthful exuberance. Was everyone in the room suddenly listening in on what was a quiet conversation that commenced between only he and Steve (and Sam who butted in early)? Apparently yes, Bucky realised. “You could even beat her arriving to her family’s house!” she continued, clasping her hands together, a hazy glow of red surrounding them. “Oh, that would be so romantic!”

“Yes!” Natasha agreed as Bucky gave her a hard stare. The one person he expected to be on his side and she was carrying on with the rest of the team.

“I expected better from you, Natalya,” Bucky muttered.

“I am allowed to love love, Barnes. Now it’s time to man up and get your girl,” Natasha replied.

“Well, I think you’re all fuckin’ crazy,” Bucky finally replied. “I’ve already messed everything up. I’m not going to ruin her holidays as well by showing up and bustlin’ in on her family Christmas as well.”

“You absolutely should,” T’Challa said from Bucky’s other side, tone low though even. “How else do you prove your feelings, White Wolf? If you wait until her return, it may not bode so well for you.”

“If he could do that, he wouldn’t be in this position,” Natasha grinned.

“And on that note and as much as I’ve appreciated this pep talk, team, I’m goin’ the fuck to bed,” Bucky skimmed his empty whiskey glass down the dimly lit bar, having well and truly enough of his _alleged_ friends. Acquaintances even seemed rich at this point.

“Buck,” Steve tried, calling after his best pal, who ignored him sensationally. “C’mon…”

Bucky figured long ago when they weren’t in a battlefield and as they were friends of one hundred plus years, he knew exactly how to block Captain America’s ass without feeling like a subordinate with a simple gesture of his own – the middle finger of his cybernetic hand as he skulked away. It was truly pathetic sight as some of his teammates stifled their laughter.

When out of hearing distance, Tony’s image appeared behind the bar before Steve and T’Challa. “We’re not going to let him mess this up, are we?” Tony demanded.

“I think he’s already done that, Tony,” Steve replied gently.

“But they’re in love with each other! That was from Pepper, by the way.”

“Sure it was,” Rhodey rolled his eyes at his best friend and while Tony hid it well, he had an incessant need to see his friends happy even if he felt like he was spiralling most of the time.

“Bucky deserves some happy,” Tony continued. “I know I haven’t exactly been the most welcoming guy to him – ”

“No shit,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Really, Wilson? Who are you to talk?” Tony retorted.

“Touché.”

“Steve, what do you have to do to knock some sense into him?”

Steve sighed. “Guys, as much as I appreiciate the enthusiasm you’re all sharing – Bucky knows what he has to do. But we can’t do it for him. For a really long time, he wasn’t able to decide his fate,” Steve reminded everyone. “But this time? It’s up to him and only him.”

“FRIDAY, you’re fired,” Tony said suddenly, staring at a device in his hand. “Barnes didn’t go to bed. He went to the hanger. He’s on a jet now.”

“That sneaky bastard!” Thor grinned. Thor also loved love.


	6. Chapter 6

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bucky mouthed to himself as he raised his fist to your front door on Christmas morning and pausing as he heard the widespread commotion on the other side. Children laughing and running on hardwood floors, adults yelling “slow down, be careful!” and as he closed in, your voice chatting to your mother about going completely overboard on breakfast when lunch would be outrageously over the top as well.

“Today comes once a year,” your mother replied. “Sweetheart, relax. Take a sip of your champagne and enjoy the day. You’re not on the clock.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” you sighed.

Bucky lowered his his hand and took a step back - this was not how he wanted to see you. One in the crowd of your family. He knew you had a big, colourful family, he’d seen the photos around your apartment of siblings, parents, charming nieces and nephews. But he’d made yet another poor decision and was looking for his escape as the door thrust open suddenly and he was met with the surprised gasp - gee whiz, the apple did not fall from the tree. They were some good fuckin’ genes, he realised as he started wide-eyed at your beautiful mother.

“Hello,” she said, not quite a greeting, clutching her heart. “Can I… help you there?”

Stammering, Bucky threw his arms behind his back, wringing his palms together, hiding his metal hand, not wanting to scare your mother. “Ma’am, Merry Christmas. I’m here to see - ”

“Oh, goodness, Bucky! Welcome,” your mother said to him, a fond recognition gracing her attractive face. Whether you’d mentioned him or his face was a little more international than it used to be these days, he wasn’t so sure. but he was sprung. “We didn’t know that you’d be joining us.”

“Heh,” he forced a laugh. “Wasn’t invited to be brutally honest, ma’am.”

“Oh, quit the ‘ma’am’ business and come inside. Can I take your jacket? It’s way too warm for it in these climates, Bucky,” she offered a hand as she stepped back in the house, giving him space to allow him into the house.

“Uhh,” he considered opening his hoodie and thought better of it in case children ran for the hills that _The fuckin’ Winter Solider_ was in their living room on Christmas morning. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you voice suddenly interrupted the reverie between Bucky and your mother.

His breathe hitching in his throat, he took you in from the across the room. Stunning, as always. In your Christmas jimmies, a modest length nightie falling just under your knees, the thin straps that graced over your smooth shoulders - one had slipped and he was desperate to place it back on your warm, welcoming skin. He missed your mother excusing herself and dragging a nephew who was about to sweep through and interrupt back with her. “Hi.”

In his stock standard black jeans, war-torn black leather boots and trusty hoodie, he was a sight. He was always too good to be true, but on Christmas morning in your parents entry, you were dumbfounded to see him. His long hair was pushed back off his face, and his beard coming in nicely, just how you liked. A ploy, you wondered. He knew how to make you weak, though it didn’t take much with him. “Bucky, you can’t be here.”

“I know,” he nodded solemnly. “I’m intruding.”

“Yes, you are!” you agreed, motioning him towards the room you’d just came from. He’d follow you fucking anywhere, he knew as you dragged him through the house and out to the backyard when you turned to face him, face a little less surprised than before and a lot more - he wanted to say pissed? “What the fuck are you doing here? Are you totally crazy?!”

Yup, _pissed_. Taken aback, Bucky took a sharp inhale. “Yes. Totally insane,” he admitted.

“How did you get here?”

“Stole a Quinjet.”

“Stole a Quinjet,” you repeated, mockingly. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I doubt anyone would believe that I’m still sulking in my apartment,” Bucky shrugged, looking up at the morning sun, it’s kick already creeping in for what was expected to be a scorcher. 

“Why would anyone think that?”

“Team got up my ass for how shitty I treated you,” he replied meekly.

“Oh, the team,” you rolled your eyes as your bare feet embraced the fresh grass under you.

“Come on, it wasn’t the team, sweetheart,” he ran a hand through his long dark waves. “You know exactly what I’m doing here.”

“Rubbing my nose in it?” you sniped.

“Jesus, fuck me,” his head fell back in exhaustion. “Are you always this harda’ work, or just when you’re jilted? Askin’ for future reference.”

“No, only when I’m left hanging about stupidly admitting how I feel.”

“I fucking love you, all right?” Bucky almost yelled. He wasn’t surprised to see faces now peering out the windows to watch your ‘chat’. “Why would I be here if I wasn’t?” Bucky could hear your heart pound in your chest. The way it increased when he shouted that he loved you. He almost felt guilty he could hear those specials things that you didn’t know was your tell. You could never have a poker face with him.

Not that you were able to respond anyway - you were mute. Your heart was racing. You couldn’t believe your ears - where they even working? Or was your imagination playing horrendous tricks on you?

The backyard door opened and your father stepped out, hands on hips. “It’s Christmas morning, and it’s breakfast time,” his voice steady in warning at the behaviour you were both displaying. “Come join the family. Bucky, we’ve set up a seat for you,” with that he turned and left. Looking at you with a broad smile and bright eyes, Bucky seemed to realise his luck, especially with your family, was changing. 

“Shit.”

“Gotta say, I’m surprised your family are so inviting,” Bucky balked.

“You’re in luck that I didn’t ruin your reputation by telling them what a fucking douchelord you are. This shouldn’t be uncomfy at all,” you muttered sarcastically, stomping towards the house and leaving Bucky glued to the earth beneath him. Turning back as you got to the back door, you sighed and asked, “Are you coming or are you going to continue humiliating me by ditching me in front of my family as well?”

“That’s a low blow, sweetheart,” he skipped quickly after you, heart surging at the unsaid truce. He was famished and he was willing. Willing to do what it took to prove to you (and your family) that he loved you and that he wasn’t leaving without you… or he was staying too. 

Stopping you as you attempted to step in, he took your hand in his cool metal one, his warm flesh snaking until your soft hair, he inhaled your familiar scent, begging, “Please let me show you what you mean to me. I love you and I won’t rest until you let me, okay?” he rested his forehead against yours as your eyes watered though the rest of your stayed frozen. “Kitten, I’m gonna make you so happy. And I know I have so much to prove. But I will. It won’t be easy, but I’m gonna to love on you so good that you’ll never question me again, ya hear me?”

Christ, you thought. Everything you’d ever needed to hear was in that sentence, but you weren’t quite ready to cave yet. You released his hands from your body and stepped inside. “Easy, tiger. You are no where near forgiven yet,” you muttered, leaving him to follow. He gave a half-smile. 

But you were talking. And he’d take it. For now.


	7. Chapter 7

Now Bucky had been interrogated before - too many times that he could count since he’d returned Stateside. After the whole thing in Germany with Zemo, and then The Snappening, he was a pro at smiling and being a dick through the pain of questioning. He could make the life of the interrogator a misery - he was a spy and assassin, there was no one on God’s green Earth who could intimidate The Winter Soldier.

Except maybe your Nanna. She’d been snickering at Bucky since he’d taken a seat at the table. Bless her, Bucky thought through his anxiety, she had to be close to his age. A wily old bird, she was the family matriarch and she had his ass sweating bullets. 

Looking at your shit-eating grin beside him, he realised you were enjoying this. Thoroughly enjoyed seeing him squirm.

Returning to your Nanna’s question, he cleared his throat to reply, “No, ma’am. Your granddaughter and I do not live together in the same apartment but we live in the Avengers Tower together. With the team, among others.”

“Good! Because the young people these days are so flagrant with their sexuality and relationships. In my day - no, in our day,” she corrected, giving Bucky a stern look. “You waited until marriage. Including marital relations -“

“Okay, Nanna,” your mother announced as you cackled silently beside Bucky. He nudged your knee under the table and you gave him a light tap back with your palm, hoping to relax him. “Well, that was some interesting discussion at breakfast with the grandchildren. Mimosas, anyone?”

As breakfast finished, Bucky eagerly helped collect and wash dishes, anything to put him in good stead with your family but it seemed he only had Nanna to worry about. The women were watching him with infinite interest regardless of their partners, your mum was fascinated with his discussion of pre-War Brooklyn and his time before being a soldier. Your dad? Eh, not a real fan but he’d win him over yet. There was no one Bucky Barnes couldn’t charm.

Even you, he hoped.

Once the commotion rang through the house again, you forced yourself into a cold shower, reappearing in a light summer dress and watched Bucky towel off the dishes your mother insisted be put in the dishwasher. But it was just a kitchen whitegood he couldn’t get on board with. Every night he’d wash his dishes by hand, contraptions be damned.

“Wanna go for a walk?” You asked softly. He turned to face you, sunglasses knitted in you hair and holding his Ray-Bans.

He gave a gentle nod. “I’d love that,” he wiped his wet hands on his jeans and gave you a shy smile.

“C’mon,” you told him, leading him to the backyard’s gate and the path behind it, leading to the beach. You felt his hand gently graze against yours, desperate to hold and link your fingers and you finally let yourself breathe, your pinkie entwining with his before he fastened your hands.

“I missed you, sugar. I missed you so much,” he admitted.

“I know I was awful to you,” you dropped your eyes as you kept walking, the morning sun turning into the midday scorch. “I just felt so stupid. And I wasn’t even angry at you. I was just angry at me.”

He reached over and kissed your temple. “You have no idea how angry I was at myself for not just saying the same words back. Because, fuck. You know I feel the same. I just got… some issues. One of them being how anyone could ever truly want me at all.”

“You know that’s crazy, right?” you pointed towards the sandy walkway to the beach, the sound of the waves now distinctly louder. “People don’t think of you like that. In fact, I know a lot of people love you and want only good things for you. Your team, Steve, Natasha, Sam. Me. Bucky, we want you to be happy. At some point you have to stop beating yourself into the ground about your past. No one will ever expect you to forget it, but I promise you, we don’t want you to miss out on something like letting you be loved, and love in return.” 

Bucky was quiet as he watched you slip off your flip flops and kick your way through the thick, warm sand before he did the same, removing his heavy boots and socks - all completely inappropriate, he realised as you found a spot to drop them and held your hand out. He took it and followed you to the clearing, the ocean mist catching him by surprise as the midday sun smiled across the sand and sea for miles. “Wow.”

“I love it here - this is why I hate snow.”

Bucky laughed quietly as you skipped down towards the water and he again followed. To this point, he realised he’d follow you into the fiery pits of hell if it meant he went with you. Your feet hit the gentle waves, not too cold but refreshing all the same. Nervous again, Bucky sidled up behind you and rested his palms on your hips, desperate to bury his face in the crook you neck. As you leaned back against him, he saw his invitation open and do just that. “I need you to understand that I’m trying,” he murmured into your warm skin. He’d never grow tired of your skin in the summer light. “That I will always be overwhelmed by my guilt, but I will also try and remember that you love me for who I am.”

Sighing, you reached back to lace your fingers in his little bun. “Bucky, I feel like I’ve loved you for 100 years.”

God, it sounded like heaven, he smiled before nibbling your ear. “I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, sugar.” 

“I know, Buck. I’ve always known. But I needed to hear to words before I could truly believe it.”

“Don’t ever doubt how I feel. It’ll take a million armies to keep me from you.”

Reaching back, you kissed him, short though poignant. “I love you,” you told him against his soft, smiling lips. “Come into the water with me.”

“In my jeans? They’ll be like concrete when we leave.”

“Didn’t you just say you’d follow me anywhere?”

He stifled a laugh. “That one bit me in the ass pretty quick.”

You took his hands and started to guide him into the waves, nearly chest deep. Bucky pulled you into his arms and you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your bodies as close as possible. Bucky kissed you hungrily, his lips matching the rough temperament of the crashing waves splashing around you. 

Hell might’ve had a place waiting for him but with you? He was home.


	8. Chapter 8

“So,” Bucky said, hands behind his back and meandering around your childhood bedroom far too interested in your younger years, immortalised on the wall in a shrine your parents implanted after you moved overseas. “You were a bit of a nerd,” he teased as he stood before a picture of you in a science lab, various test tubes of coloured chemicals begging to be mixed by you with a beaming smile and glasses. 

Head buried in your pillows, you pleaded for the torture to be over. How he weaseled his way into a house tour was beyond you. But here you were, wishing the house would fall on you only mere hours after telling each other how much you loved each other.

Funny. Now you hated him.

“God, you were adorable. I’d definitely have had a crush on you. I was a nerd too,” he whispered the last part like it was a secret of sorts that no one would ever believe.

“I’ve seen pix of you, Bucky. You weren’t a nerd.”

“Handsome nerd,” he corrected with a slight grin. “But I was also the basketball captain and I boxed after school,” he added smugly. “Kinda the full package, guess you could say.”

“You really have a high sense of self, Buck,” you congratulated him sarcastically.

He chuckled and shrugged. “You hear things; you start to believe them. Besides, these days I get by on a little more than my looks. You know, fear and that kinda shit.”

You stifled a laugh - never once had you ever felt scared or intimidated of James Buchanan Barnes. 

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he took in your scent, still sweet from your perfume he’d began to miss and a little salty from the beach. “God, I missed you, sweetheart. I was beginning to think I’d never get to hold you again.”

You sighed, melting into his strong form. Your back curving back into his muscular chest. It felt good, familiar. True. “I missed you too,” you said between Bucky’s teeth gently grazing your collarbone. “Slow down, Bub. This isn’t happening here,” you warned as he let out a small whine.

“I know but just lemme keep you one more minute, okay?” You agreed as he turned your body facing his, his lips lowering dangerously close to yours. “Can I kiss you? Because if I don’t I feel I’ll explode,” he breathed on your skin.

“Kiss me,” you begged as his lips met yours, tender and soft. Loving and gentle. Nothing obtrusive, just filling your body with warmth as his tongue slowly tangled with yours and your fingers tangled into his messy, wavy mane of dark waves.

“Are you gonna to stay here tonight?”

“Pretty sure I can get called away for business,” you said, attempting some creative lying. He grinned, pulling back a little.

“No, no. We’re not gonna have you skip out on your parents. I can stay in the city and - “

“You leave, I leave.”

His smile softened. “You’re here to see your family. I’m intruding.”

“LUNCH IS IN THE TABLE!” A voice rang out, announcing the delicious Christmas spread was ready. Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s just see how your family react to you lovin’ on a guy with a black and gold metal arm first, huh?”

“Please,” you turned to face your mirror, adjusting your hair from reckless to somewhat presentable again. “They love you.”

“I don’t think they will be too impressed if they knew all the dirty, _dirty_ thoughts I have in my head for you at this very moment.”

You blushed, your forehead burying into his strong chest as he laughed again and tugged at your just neatly presented hair again.

“Come on, we better not keep anyone waiting.”

* * *

“So you’re staying in the city,” you repeated as Bucky started to collect his gear for his bike as he nodded.

“Room 293,” he winked playfully. “If I was to havva midnight caller of sorts.”

You rolled you eyes, pushing his helmet you were holding firmly into his tummy (abs of pure steel). His eyes bulged a little and he gasped. “That sounds kind of like a lady of the night.”

“You’d wanna be paid too?” Bucky teased.

“Maybe it’s better if you leave,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. There ain’t enough bucks in the world to cover what we got and what we’re gonna have,” his hands cradled your face and his lips were on yours again. “I better go. I love you.”

You didn’t know you could be so happy… every time he told you he loved you, you were a puddle on the floor. “I love you too.”

“I’ll see you at the hotel in the morning. We keep our mitts offa each other another 12 hours, darlin’.”

“That’s false but I’ll pretend I can if you do,” you replied as he gave you a half-strained smile. “Safe trip.”

“Always,” he grasped your hip and brought your body flush to his, his lips covering yours in a kiss that was anything but respectful for the crowd of relatives gathered at the windows for a last minute gawk at the specimen of whose arms enveloped you. “I’ll text when I get back.”

Gently shaking off the reel that his kiss could cause you, you let out a small gasp as a reply and he let you go, throwing a leg over to straddle his bike and smirked, happy with your body’s response to his touch. “Unfair.”

“I know,” he winked before slipping on his helmet and keying the engine, the rev flooding the street obnoxiously, alerting dogs and neighbours alike. “Couldn’t resist,” he added arrogantly before speeding off.

* * *

Spying the bedside clock, Bucky opened a wary eye to 4:07am glaring back at him. He gave a raspy chuckle as he saw your text, screaming back at him:

**You:** I have ben arguing with the concierge to contact you for 15 minutes and he refuses! WAKE UP, I need you xo

Palming the phone, he texted back that he was putting on some jeans and would come and get you shortly.

And as his text said, he appeared in the hotel lobby a few minutes later barefoot and in jeans hanging far too loosely around his smooth hips. He gave the startled concierge (a heart attack probably at the sight of the supremely muscular super soldier, vibranium darkly on display as well as a bare chest) a light wave and held his arm out to you, utterly gorgeous with your huffy pout as you gave the man behind the desk the eye as Bucky laughed heartedly, leading you back to the elevators.

“Come on, trouble,” Bucky murmured. “Let’s get you upstairs,” he held you tight and close as you waited for the doors to open. Guiding you in, he kissed you and smiled against your lips. “We agreed 9am for a long breakfast in bed, sweetheart. It’s just gone 4am.” 

“I’m a tad early,” you said meekly but had to laugh as he tucked some hair behind your ear. 

“I’m so glad you are,” he confided. You were both silent as your watched each other and waited for the lift to reach Bucky’s floor. Penthouse - no surprise. Stark fucking bankrolled everything. As the door rang announcing it was about to open, Bucky grinned again and led you quickly down the hallway to his room. He scanned his key and let you in first. “After you, baby.”

As always, terribly tidy. Only items out of place his boots strewn on their side beside the bed. Close enough to jam on quickly if he was made and had to bail out ASAP. You knew him well. But he knew you better, seeing your nightshirt folded neatly on your side of the bed like he anticipated it.

“Presumptuous,” you muttered to yourself, loosening yourself of his grasp to put your bag down as he shrugged modestly.

“I hoped I wouldn’t be goin’ home alone - I needed to.”

“Lucky for you you’re cute,” you joked.

“That is lucky,” he said. “So, why did you get here so early?” he teased, taking you in his arms and guiding you back towards the bed. “It’s so hot at your parents place, it couldn’t possibly be because your old bed is too cold, is it?” his smirk was utterly shiteating and while it would have normally infuriated you, you know, before you told each other you loved the other, that morning since the sun was starting to rise over the city, you gave in and grinned.

“Nope, just here to get laid,” you told him simply as he cackled. 

“What kind of man do you take me for? I thought we were going to treat this new phase as a loving, respectful relationship as equals!”

“Fuck respectful, Barnes. And fuck me,” your passion overtook you as you took Bucky by the arms and turned him, pushing him back on the bed. He landed with a contended grunt and put his hands behind his head. Climbing to straddle him, he chewed his lip, happily. 

“That, sweet baby, I can arrange,” Bucky wrapped his arms around your middle and flipped you, pleased and whipped off your shirt. Cocking his head to the side, you had to blush. Yes, you made sure to put on your sexiest lingerie, he always appreciated it… and always noticed. “Damn, that is nice. Red, my favourite,” he appreciated as his voice dropped an octave. “Jesus,” he leaned forward and delicately draped kisses across your décolletage. “Dollface, I am going to eat you alive.”

Curling his fingers into your jeans, he twisted the button and slowly sunk them down down your legs, drinking in the rest of the bodysuit, his warm hands taking in as much of your skin as possible, spreading your legs wide to drink every ounce of your body in and out. 

You had to bite back a laugh. If he was enjoying your body this much, God, did he know how much you lusted over his? Bucky was created by the Gods (HYRDA can suck a dick if they think they had any hand in creating the man before you). No one should be this good looking. Those cheeky, dancing baby blue eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes and wavy hair that met the stubble on his chin, the smattering of salt and pepper in his thick, though well maintained beard. His broad strong shoulders of flesh and black vibranium, the scarring around his chest that lead to his muscular pectorals. When you continued through the ridges and plains, you were swept up on the clench of his abdominals - 

“You’ve seen all this before, baby,” Bucky said, a little in awe of the care you were taking in his body. You didn’t realise you were ogling him so intensely. You had missed the scorch of his skin, its smoothness, the scarring (that he hated but you would always adore because it was imtimately his). The strength. 

“I missed you, I just didn’t realise how much.”

Humming in agreement, Bucky moved back to slip down his jeans leaving him naked, proud and shamelessly on display. Hard, slick and wanting before he gave you an almost shy smile and approached again. “I missed us.”

“I missed us too,” you admitted, opening your arms and he licked his lips before kneeling on the bed, the gracefulness similar to a cat. His body sunk over yours and he kissed you. Gentle, unobtrusive. “So good,” you told him breathlessly. His body lowered to yours, the cool vibranium of his hand wrapping around your thigh and taking into his palm, grasping it before he took it and wrapped it around his waist. His flesh palm had been tracing share on your belly and slowly creeping towards your groin. He toyed momentarily as he grinned to himself. 

“Found it,” he snapped the buttons keeping your body suit in place, watching gleefully as it sprung up to your ribs. He sat you up, whipping it carefully up your body and tossing it away. “Better,” he grunted against your mouth as you held onto his body, your hips rising to gather some friction against Bucky’s body, now wholly skin to skin. You’d forgotten how surreal a kisser was - his tongue was warm velvet, especially when he kissed you as he did now. Toe-curling, the little flick of his tongue against your, the trace of your lips before he would indulge deeper. The soft sighs of pleasure you’d share together. “I’ll give you anything you want; just tell me what you need,” he breathed in your ear, nuzzling against your neck, tongue slowly travelling down your neck, his lips massaging against your jugular. 

He knew your body far too well - what made you come utterly undone. You’d been in this moment a hundred times before and maybe it was his training, or just that he knew how to treat a woman, or he just knew how to treat you but he could read your body like a book. He knew that spot below your ribs that if he kissed it, your body could contort into shapes you’d never known possible, or if he toyed with your nipples just long enough it could have a spectacular reaction similar to a mind-blowing orgasm. And of course, that little spot on the inside of your thigh that he nuzzled before he tasted you and the sounds he’d illicit from you. 

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair, you pulled his face back to yours. “I want you to fuck me like I’m _yours_.” 

A look of disbelief washed over his handsome features as he made his rock-hard cock comfortable between your thighs, teasing you both. “You are _mine_ ,” he breathed. “You’re so wet, I want to be in you so fuckin’ bad - but I gotta turn you inside out first, sweetheart,” his Brooklyn drawl deep with desire. “I want you to see ever star in the sky behind your eyes when you come. You make me wild,” he whispered. “Let me do things to you I could have never dreamed with another woman, sugar.”

The only word that fell from your lips was, duh, “Yes.” The desire was palpable, you weren’t sure if it was from his body playing your body like a song or the promise his gentle breath whispered into your ear. Had Bucky always been a master of dirty talk? This was new to you, and certainly not something previously shared by him. But God, it was making you drip.

“You’re so wet,” he continued, reading your mind. He took you wrists in his hot hand and stretched them above you head, kissing between your breasts before focusing on one, his tongue tracing and biting between his sharp, white teeth. “I was to taste every piece of you.” 

You could only reply with a groan as the tip of his perfect nose cascaded between your ribs to your belly button. 

“Can I do that?”

You may’ve hummed in approval but you couldn’t be sure, the sound of blood pumping deafening in your ears. Your eyes cloudy and unable to resist staying open even though you were so desperate to see where his lips would stop. Surprisingly he began ascending to your lips again, skin slick against yours - the room felt a million degrees. “I need you, Buck.”

“I know, kitten. I want you so bad, but I can’t rush this. You gotta know how I feel about you,” he left a wet kiss against your mouth, his tongue tracing your lips.

“We have the rest of our lives to do that, but right now, I just need you to make me come undone,” you told him, unable to hide the urgency in your voice. He had you so fired up, wet and almost begging for him. This was ridiculous. You’d had him a hundred time before, why was this morning any different? 

“You want me to make you come undone?” he repeated. “Let’s ruin you then, princess,” he spread your legs wide, any shame washing away as he looked down on your body like the best damn present he’d ever received and adjusted his cock at your entrance. He teased you both momentarily, sweeping the head through your pulsating heat - before he straightened his body up, his face to yours and thrust in hard and without warning. 

Moaning in reply, it had only been a few weeks, but your body didn’t fail to contour to his, giving yourself to him fully. Your nails raked into his shoulders as he began a ruthless assault on you. Deep, almost painful rolls of his hips into yours had you almost wailing in pleasure. Kissing you deeply, Bucky distracted you with his tongue momentary as his mouth left yours, nipping your bottom lip, leaving a single kiss on your chin and sinking lower. His mouth open and teeth begging to brand your clavicle for the world to see be yet he continued, his tongue swirling your nipples and chewing down roughly.

“Fuck yes,” you encouraged him even if it stung a little and he responded in kind, his warm palm creeping from your hip to you thoroughly ignored clit. Kudos to him, he prayed for you to come and come and come every time you were together but you realised, _it did feel different_. Oh, those fucking asshoes who ruined everything by telling you sex was better with someone you loved. They were right. Noticing a sudden shift in your behaviour, Bucky slowed down momentarily. “Where you at, sweetheart? Come back to me,” he pointed at his face, urging you to do the same. 

Blinking back to look at him, you smiled and it reassured him. He gave your lips a gentle peck before resuming his assault on your senses. His fingers going to use and you felt all the bottled up tension of the last few weeks drain away, your tummy cooling and the familiar feeling of euphoria washing over you as your orgasm exploded, body shuddering and heat clenching tightly around Bucky.

Bucky responded with a deep, pleasured groan. His eyes fluttered closed and his hips stuttered to a stop as he slowed, worried he may explode from just how fucking good he felt but it was in vain as he swore black and blue, his cock pistoning into you and coming hard.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” he exclaimed as he chased his orgasm before falling into you, utterly spent.

His lips kissed across your chest and chin before they hungrily met your lips. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, burying his face into you décolletage.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” you told him, running your fingers through his tangled dark mop of waves. He groaned, you knew he loved having his hair played with as much as anything.

“That feels good,” he said with a small giggle. 

“I know,” you kissed his temples he looked up to face you. Poor timing as you stifled a yawn and his grin widened, mirth meeting his deep blue stony eyes. 

“Tired?”

“No,” you lied, offhandedly. “I’m good.”

“Nah, I worked you over too good,” he laughed against your skin. 

“You did,” this time you couldn’t lie and yawned again, eyes feeling heavier by the second and before you knew it, you were dozing. Mixing in a ruthless night unable to sleep, thinking of Bucky and then joining him had worn you out. You stifled a yawn, settling into the pillow as Bucky enveloped himself around you. Knotting your legs and fastening his arms around you, linking fingers. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”


	9. Epilogue

Sighing as you stood in the elevator with Bucky zooming up to your room, he smiled across at you although keeping a wide berth between you. You’d been connected at the lips or hips since he came and metaphorically claimed you on Christmas Day. It felt strange to have space.

You tried to bite back a grin of your own, but in a not-so-surprising turn of events, your teeth were on full display as you grinned back. 

God. You were stupidly in love with this man, Bucky Barnes. You felt soft and pliable where as before you wouldn’t even bend. It was a scary notion.

It was also a little bit creepy, you and Bucky were starting to realise and would just laugh at each other when the doe-eye grin came over either of you. “I’m gonna shower. De-Quinjet,” you told him as the elevator stopped at your floor and he nodded. 

“See you later?” he asked softly as you nodded and started to walk out. Feeling cool vibranium slide gently around your wrist, Bucky hauled you back to him, pulling your bodies flush once again like magnets - you loved his strength against you, the feel of every bump and ridge of muscle. “Not so quick, you,” he muttered, lips closing on yours again. 

“You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, completely insatiable,” Bucky agreed. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?” you asked, as the elevator continued to Bucky’s floor. He laughed.

“No. I couldn’t tire of you, pretty baby,” he rested his chin on your hair and stayed close. “I may be a miserable old bastard most of the time, but I’m certainly never gonna be sick of you. Lay some sugar on me,” he teasingly crowed as you laughed into his plump, grinning lips.

Fuck, this felt so good, you realised. It almost felt surreal. His mouth was made for kissing. “You and your cheesy lines,” you joked as he pretended to be wounded.

“Please, you fuckin’ love when I doll out a line from the 40′s. You know I’m irresistible.”

“Incorrigible,” you corrected.

He nodded, eyebrow quirking, entertained. “Especially that.”

The elevator opened to Bucky’s floor and he let you leave, dragging all of your luggage with him. Hearing a hum, you turned to him, frowning. “What?”

“My dreams are in those jeans,” He chewed his lip, desperate to bite back the smirk begging to grace his features. “That ass? Damn.”

Rolling your eyes as you opened Bucky’s room door and let him in after you, he guided all the luggage to the corner (tripping hazards, you knew why) before flopping down on the couch and tucking his arms behind his head, his deep blue tee creeping to show a little snail trail and abs of marble. The picture of utter relaxation.

“We’re officially back,” he announced. 

“Back to real life,” you kept your distance and pushed yourself up to sit on the end of the couch, knowing if you got any closer what you needed to say would be lost in a mess of limbs and ripping clothing of instead. 

Bucky saw your anticipation instantly. “Spill, baby. What’s on your mind?”

“I guess now we’re out of the bubble of the holidays, you go back to saving the world and I am just Pepper’s assistant again,” you muttered.

“Don’t you dare say that, you practically run this place with Pepper. I won’t stand for your attempts at mediocrity here,” he gave a small smile.

“I don’t mean that, I guess. I mean… you go back to putting your life on the line every day and I have to stay here, pretending that I have total faith you’re always going to come back.”

“Back to NYC?” he said lightly. You knew he was baiting you for more.

“To me.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened as he sat up and touched your knee, lightly. “I am always gonna come back to you.”

“Things happen - ” you protested.

“They won’t happen to me,” he cut in. “Don’t let your mind go to a dark place, sweetheart. You can’t live like that.”

“You did,” you scornfully reminded him. _Low blow_ , even for you.

He chewed his lip pensively. He knew you were trying to hurt him but he wasn’t falling for it. “Don’t take this wrong, okay? But right now, right here, this is the best time of my life. I admit, things had been bleak for a long time but then you swan into my life in your tight skirts and nerdy glasses and I’m fuckin’ hooked. You. You give me a reason for living I hadn’t felt since 1942. I never thought I’d get the chance to live me life like this again.”

You dropped your eyes as tears welled. He hadn’t even left yet and you were suddenly terrified of a very real threat that could come at any time. Things were certainly easier before this man entered your life.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, dragging you into his strong arms and lacing the roped of muscle around you. He perched you on his body, not allowing you any wriggle room. “I hate to say this, because I know you know a lot about my past, but may not so much about what I do now. But I’m good at my job. I’ve always been good at my job. I do my job and then I get the hell outta there to get home to my girl. It’s no big secret anymore. It’s you and me, that’s the beginning and the end of it.”

You nodded and gasped quietly as he wiped away your tears with his warm thumb. 

“So you better get used to it. I love you and I’m not letting anything happen to us, ya hear me?” he asked, nudging your nose with his, his bright blue eyes shining hopefully and you crumbled, falling weakly against his body, falling into him.

“I know - I’ll be better.”

“Good. So don’t wish me away when I’m already here, okay?”

You nodded again. “You’re right,” you acknowledged as he hooted.

“Well, alert the media. Send a tweet or whatever that stupid Twatter thing is. You just admitted I was right? Christ, gonna right this one down in my journal,” he teased as you pushed him away, bashfully and he chuckled quietly again. “Okay, okay I’ll stop teasing.” 

“You have a journal?” you mocked as he grunted and lifted you towards the bedroom.

* * *

Sam nudged Nat who sat beside him at the breakfast bar. She knew who’d walked in, she didn’t need to raise her eyes to see you and Bucky wander in for breakfast together. She wanted you to have your privacy - and she also knew it would be next to non-existent around the Tower.

“Coffee?” you murmured to Bucky.

“Yeah. Please,” he said, taking you by the waist and kissing you deeply, amused as you almost lost your footing, his kiss making you so heady. “Black. Like my soul.”

“Was there any doubt?” you asked. 

“Definitely not,” Sam mumbled as you scoffed a laugh.

“Morning Sam, morning Nat,” you replied, pouring Bucky’s coffee and he made you a bagel. This domesticity you could truly get used to as you moved around the kitchen all the while staying as close as you can.

“So, this is a thing now?” Sam asked. Gee, he loved gossip even if he masked it badly but his gruffness. The team would love this new development. “I have to start my day in Lover City?” 

Handing Bucky his liquid tar, you took a bite of the bagel with cream cheese and chives, nodding. “Jealous?” you asked with your mouthful. Bucky couldn’t be more proud if it was him sniping back. He sat back, lean frame preppy by the bench, sipping his coffee, perfect and just how he liked it. He’d trained you well.

Black coffee and more sugar than was normal for daily consumption. It wasn’t a hard order to remember.

“No. Not jealous,” Sam replied sternly, looking back at the paper. “Repulsed, but not jealous.”

“Okay, Sam,” you grinned, reaching over to pat his wrist as Bucky slid tea before you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck, murmuring a quiet goodbye, taking his leave. He was late to meet Steve for a run. 

“I’m happy for you,” he said softly, knowing Bucky was out of earshot. “You’re good together. He needs good.”

“You’re big sap, Sam,” you told him with a gentle smile.

“Don’t tell anyone, especially Bucky. I’ll never live it down.”

“You’re secret of Bucky’s happiness is safe with me,” you promised.

**FIN.**


End file.
